The Best Laid Schemes
by tulipfever
Summary: It was Luca's vendetta but it was her epiphany. What will happen when Leta finds out her family isn't what she thought they were?


"_The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, Gang aft agley. _

_An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain_

_For promis'd joy!"_

**CHAPTER ONE. **

1924.

He was dead. That's all Leta could distinguish from the muffled voices on the other side of the oak door she was perched against. _Who was Dead? _She thought, whose death could strike that much anger into the heart of her father and his brothers. Their particular way of life was tainted with red, always and forever, so why now does that crimson shade suddenly become an unbearable stain upon this family. Before her attempts at eavesdropping could offer her the who or the why, the shuffling of feet alert her to step away from the door before she was caught in the act. The young girl ushered herself a few yards away, patiently waiting for her father and uncles to emerge. As the door creaked open, she averted her eyes to seemingly look as though her mind was anywhere but the matter at hand.

_Louie, mostra quei bastardi inglesi che sono i veri gangster" _(Louie, show those english bastards who the real gangsters are.) Her father murmured as he opened the door, his face riddled with annoyance as his eyes befall his eldest daughter standing near them, her mind seemed to wander but Francesco knew his daughter better than that. As Louie and Vincenzo were dismissed down the hall to begin whatever trials her father has put them on, with whoever the englishmen they spoke of were, Leta chimed in hoping whatever white lie she could cook up would mask the tension within the household. "Babbo, I -" But her fathers wit was quicker than her own and he stopped her tall tale before it had even begun.

"You were sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, Topolina" _Little mouse. _She remembers very vividly how she got that nickname. One of her fonder memories with her father before work weighed down on him all too heavily and the furrow of his brow became all too permanent.

1911.

It was a chilly December morning when the Spinietta family finished packing up Mary's belongings into the attic. It couldn't have been more than three months since Leta's mother passed away of tuberculosis yet any trace of her in the house was gone, some would question if she was ever really there at all. The once empty attic was now filled with brown boxes stack up to the ceiling.

Looking around, Leta didn't really understand the permanence of death, it didn't feel like the world was at a stand still as her father had described it to her. As if life suddenly stopped and all she could feel was the ache in her heart. No, the world was still moving, it just felt like a different motion.

Out of the corner of her peripheral, a small movement from the crevices of the boxes caught the child's attention. Leta stepped lightly towards the small creature careful not to frighten it away. When she got close enough she crouched down with her hands forward making a cup shape. "Come here little mousy, I won't hurt you." And as if by some miracle, the rodent scurried into the palm of her hands allowing Leta to pick it up. Amazed by her own accomplishment, she looked around for someone to share it with. "Papa!... Papa, look I found a mouse!" She yelled. Her father weaved his way through the maze of boxes to find his little girl, no older than five, smiling down at the creature. "Looks like your mother sent us some help to pack up her things" He spoke softly, so as not to disturb the mouse or his daughter. "You know, Leta, they say mice are animals of guidance. Perhaps this was your mother's way of telling you she is still here to guide you." The young girl's face light up at the sheer mention of her once graceful mother. "So, Mama is my mouse guide?... That's amazing! I hope one day I can brave enough to be someone's guide."

And with that, as the last box was packed away and the fresh snow settled along the streets of Manhattan, Francesco scooped up his sleepy, little girl in his arms whispering underneath his breath "You already are, _Topolina._"

. . .

"Sticking my nose where it doesn't belong is what I do best, you know that." She said in her own defense. "The least you could do is tell me about it rather than me sneaking around to get it on my own." Leta smirked slyly, "And I will get it on my own." She could go toe to toe all day with her father without ever missing one beat. Even the crime boss was well aware of that which led to him letting out a sigh of defeat.

"Fine. I'll tell you, amore. But that's the end of it. No questions, no involvement. Got it?" He huffed, pulling a cigarette out of his coats inside pocket and placing it between his lips, lighting it. "Understood, Babbo."

He let out a long, drawn out breath as the words hung heavy upon the end of his tongue. Her anticipation lingered in the air for a moment, rather excited to finally be more involved in the family business. If only she had known what was coming next then perhaps she could've braced herself.

"Your cousin, Angel Changretta, was murdered."

. . .

Her mother, Mary, was very close to her sister, Audrey and would often bring her four children to visit the Changretta's in Birmingham. Even though Mary was significantly younger nor related by blood to Audrey, she loved her adopted sister just as dearly as any family in their right mind would love their kin. And as for Mary, the orphaned girl loved Audrey as a sister and the only strong mother figure in her life. So when the day came all those years ago, that Mary decided to move back to America to marry Francesco Spinietta, a mafioso from one of the most dangerous cities around, it pained them both immensely to say farewell. However they were never apart for long and habitual vacations were taken annually to the quaint english town.

The Spinietta's and Changretta's were intertwined with English and American members, so whether they were in Birmingham or Manhattan both were always present. During their trips to England though, Leta and her older brothers, Matteo, Giovanni and Michael, sought the company of their cousins, Angel and Luca.

Leta never saw eye to eye with Luca, not only because of their rather noticeable difference in age but they were morally incompatible. She couldn't help but notice the way he handled the family dog or how he used live birds in cages as targets to practice his shooting abilities. So she usually stuck close to Angel during these visits while Luca entertained, or rather tainted, her brothers minds with his odd way of the world.

She found a certain sort of comfort in her kinship with Angel. He was younger than Luca but still considerably older than her yet the generations didn't seem to fault them. He was the one to introduce her to the culinary arts. Angel and Leta would often be found in the kitchen cooking up all sorts of dishes for them to try.

Leta remembers how overjoyed she was for Angel when she got a letter describing how he finally managed his own restaurant. She had aspirations to start her own restaurant away from her family name no matter how far fetched of a goal it was. Her father owned plenty of speakeasies but those didn't have the same allure of the business she dreamt of in her head. So upon hearing of his achievements, she couldn't help but stifle him asking for every detail to live vicariously through him, if even for a moment.

"You old fool, you've really done it haven't you?" She rang him up one day, to congratulate him on his good fortune.

"Well it's technically just a pawn in The Black Hand's ol' game but yeah, it's mine." He spoke back, trying to hide his lack of happiness.

"Hey! It's still a restaurant and it's still yours. It's got a kitchen don't it? That means you can still cook. That's what you want isn't it?" Leta said convincingly trying her best not to let their families business get in the way.

"Yeah, that's what I wanted, Kid." She could tell he was smiling into the phone even if he refuses to admit it. "See you soon, Leta."

"See you soon, chef."

. . .

Those six little words pierced through her faster than any bullet could. The only person on either side of her family tree that she felt a genuine connection to was taken from this life. The look of guilt overcame her presence, for the last time her family went to visit Uncle Vincente and Aunt Audrey, Leta didn't go.

She was suppose to go until at the last second, on a whim, she decided to stay with her father in New York. Leta was just shy of eighteen when her father told her a week before it was time to depart on a ship to England, that she should start showing interest in what her family does and get her nose out of the cookbook. Wanting to prove herself to her father, whom she admired, Leta told her mother it was best she stayed home this trip, to help her father with the paperwork of his business. Her mother hesitantly agreed but agreed nonetheless. So she stayed and now he was gone.

However she made sure to write the Changretta's a letter to apologize on her own behalf.

_Dear Uncle Vincente and Aunt Audrey, _

_I am deeply sorry I could not make it to Birmingham this season. If anyone should understand I pray it be you two. I have grown up and my father feels as though I should start establishing myself more prominently as a Spinietta. Don't worry, it is mostly paperwork and the legal side of it per request of my mother but mostly due to the fact that father hates the idea of his little girl holding a gun. _

_I hope the restaurant Angel has opened recently is bringing money along with overall success. I wish I could be there now fine dining on whatever delicacies grace the menu. One day I will try them, perhaps next summer. _

_All the love, Leta._

Leta did not weep, she wanted to and felt like she had to but the tears didn't fall. She stood there, unresponsive and her eyes glazed. "Who?... Why?" Was all she could manage to get out.

Francesco Spinietta chose his next words very carefully. "Peaky Blinders… The ones who also burnt down his establishment. They… roughed him up for something Vincente said and shot him in his hospital bed like a fuckin' animal." He made sure his words danced around his family's malfeasance.

Her eyes finally glossed over with tears but these were filled with something other than sadness. These tears were hot and full of anger. "Why would why do that? Why him, he was the best of us all!"

The mafioso looked around as if the answer was among them somewhere. "Because, my dear, they're the peaky _fucking _blinders. They don't have reason. But now we do."

"...Reason for what?" She said as her face fell from the rigid position it had held, to peer up at her father utterly lost at what he was insinuating.

"Reason to kill them. All of them." Then the room fell quiet between the two of them. She didn't exactly know _how_ to feel about what her father had just said. She always believed words could cut just as deep as any knife. So from a young age, Leta learned how to skillfully manipulate someone using everything but violence. She always thought it was a safer and more effective means of getting what she wanted. Mixed with a very pacifistic viewpoint despite her contrasting family transactions, she hated death. The world had finally stopped fighting, the world was filled with too many dead already. Leta would hate for her family to contribute more to it. Punch or threaten a guy here or there, that she could make peace with but murder. That takes a toll on a person and she cared too much about her family for them to kill a plethora of Peaky men.

So she thought there could be a better way to go about handling their problem. The last thing Leta wants is to make a martyr out of Angel. She silently prayed that his soul was at rest and forever would be. Also because she _had_ heard of the Peaky Blinders. They made themselves quite notorious in England and that word had spread to the gangs in Manhattan, along with Boston and Chicago. She was wise beyond her years and Leta understood the repercussions that would happen if they were to go to war with them. Unnecessary casualties on both sides sent a pang through her. Her family already was dwindling with the loss of her mother and the murder of her brother, Matteo, two years ago. Her families bloodshed would end with Angel, that she was determined to make sure of.

"No." The word escaped her lips as if on instinct. She didn't quite understand what she was doing but she made no effort to back track.

"What did you just say to me?" Her father scoffed, as if he was appalled by the mere thought of his own flesh and blood defying his orders.

"Killing them will make matters worse. It won't rectify the loss of Angel. You want to make them hurt? Keep them alive and let them eat each other up."

Francesco raised his eyebrow, surprised and impressed by Leta's sudden boldness and assertion. "I'm listening."

"A house divided cannot stand. You make them their own enemy. They'll solve our problem and our hands will be clean of blood." She didn't know where this was coming from but it felt like another person was talking through her.

"Well it's too late" The Capo pondered, reviewing her option but ultimately dismissing it. "We've already set up for Luca and some of his men to set off to England tomorrow. By the end of the year, their wrongs will be righted. Besides, who would even go that could get close enough to go through with your plan? They'll see our dark hair and olive skin and immediately deem us italians - enemies by association."

Leta scrunched up her face in frustration. _Luca. _She thought, he was merely a soldier of her father's and brother to the deceased, why would he send him. He'll turn a simple hit mission into a personal vendetta. _He'll mess up_.

"Let me go. I'll do it." She said, matter-of-factly. Suddenly her father let out a very dry cough, causing her confidence to waiver inside but her face remained stern, determined. "Topolina, you've never done anything relating to my business here, in New York. You're unprepared to do a job all the way in Birmingham. No, I'm sorry but no."

"You're wrong, Papa. I'm perfect for the job _because _you underestimate me. They will too. But I will be quiet, clever and tear them apart from the inside before they even see it coming. Please, let me do this for Angel. For all of us."


End file.
